


One Half Missing

by ArvenaPeredhel



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 16:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16916280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArvenaPeredhel/pseuds/ArvenaPeredhel
Summary: When you marry, it's said you become two halves of one whole.





	1. Hibernation Sickness

He thought he was going to be sick.

Chewie hadn’t been allowed to stay with him for very long - once whoever was in charge of prisons had discovered they were in the same cell, guards had been sent to remove Han and deposit him somewhere else - and so, once again, he was alone and blind in the freezing dark.

_Leia…_

In sleep, he’d had thoughts of her for company. Her face, the touch of her hand, the softness of her lips against his, the memory of the desperate nights they shared as they limped to Bespin on a malfunctioning hyperdrive… it had served to keep him from the worst of the cold. The thought of her safe had comforted his shredded subconscious, and what sense of self had remained in that damnable hibernation had been content to know that even if he never awoke, she would continue.

But now…

The thought of what was happening to her (what _has_ happened to her, Solo, be realistic, you know the sorts of people Jabba employs) was going to kill him. He knew it. Because now it wasn’t just about him, or even about him and Chewie. She had to try for one last heroic endeavor.

_Damned idiotic woman. Why would she come after me?_

He remembered their last moments on Bespin - the sudden heat in their final kiss, the look in her eyes, “I love you!” - 

_I know._

Hell, Solo, why would you say that? “I know”, like you’re some smartass kid in school, like she hadn’t just opened her heart to you, to somebody, for maybe the first time ever? Like she didn’t see your eyes and think that was maybe the last thing she would ever say to you?

Like you’re in control?

Kreth, there is no control here. You’re mad for her. You’re mad for her and now she’s with _him_ , her body at his mercy, she’s probably kriffing _dead_ by now.

He crawled to the corner of his cell and threw up.


	2. Frayed Bond

_Where are you?_

It was a ridiculous question, the kind of question you ask when you’re a child and you don’t understand the meaning of the word gone, not really. It was the same thing he’d asked his mother, once upon a time.

He stood at the window, eyes on the heavens ( _damn you,_ damn _you, if you are meant to be hope incarnate how could you let this happen to me_ ) and his hands on the carved wood of the balcony’s rail. He didn’t plan on sleeping this night, or the night after, or the night after, not until she was home.

 _If_ , said the voice at the back of his mind. _If_ she comes home.

He forced that thought out and set it ablaze. _She will return. She must return. Alive, and_ - 

\- he staggered as for a brief moment their bond was restored, and his mouth opened in a silent cry, and he stumbled back from the rail and sank into his waiting chair. Pain slashed up through him, his hips were on fire, someone had him by the hair and was holding him down, no, _no,_ _please, anything but that_ - 

\- gone. As soon as it had come.

He sank his face into his hands and wept.


	3. The Pit of Despair

He could smell death.

It was thick on the air, the decay and the blood and the entrails. He wasn’t a fool, he’d been around the galaxy enough times to know what that meant.

It meant someone had died, and they were nearby, and probably their body would be dumped out one of the many garbage chutes, or go to feed the Rancor, or - 

\- kriff, the Rancor.

He would have thrown up again, but there was absolutely nothing left in his stomach by now, not even bile.

_Leia… Leia I’m sorry, Leia forgive me…_

He could see her when he closed his eyes. He knew the sorts of people Jabba employed, knew the pain they inflicted - delighted upon inflicting, really - knew that unless Leia were fortunate enough to have been claimed as the Hutt’s exclusive property she would be dead already. And Jabba wouldn’t lay claim to her. This was punishment, not a matter of lust. She would be humiliated and torn apart and left to bleed out and it’s your fault, Solo, your fault for letting her in, your fault for loving her, how could you do this to her she’s just a girl, just a symbol, just the figurehead for the entire godsdamed Rebel Alliance and now she’s _dead_ …

The floor was cold, and the thick slabs of stone were broken and let sand in through their cracks, and for once in his life Han Solo didn’t mind the scouring grit because it reminded him that he was alive and she was not and it was _his fault_.

_Leia I - I love you…_


	4. Strung Out

“You should eat something.”

The voice was hazy, as though he was hearing it from under water or from a great distance. He was drifting in mist, and as his visitor spoke he could feel the warmth of a golden sun on his shoulders.

“Can’t.” he groaned, forcing his eyes open and turning his head to look up at the concerned faces of his chief councillor and his seneschal. They were gleaming - the latter in particular, his entire fëa brilliant and gold - and their light sliced through the fog and pulled him back to reality. “Tried.” He sighed and returned to his former position, half-curled up in a mess of blankets with his face pressed into her pillow. The outcome of that experiment had been unpleasant, and had resulted in him bent double over a bucket in his study for roughly an hour until his stomach had stopped its heaving. 

“At least try.” someone - Erestor? - said, and at that he grit his teeth and forced himself to turn over and glare at both his visitors.

His hips were on fire, and every breath sent pain arcing up through his torso and chest, white-hot flames seeping from a cut that sliced neatly through the layers of muscles to skim internal organs. Their bond was weak and sporadic, but it was enough to cripple him. Slowly he groaned and tried to sit up, but even that brought him to the edge of nausea and with a weak groan he fell back into the bedclothes. He was pale, and trembling with every beat of his heart, because when he closed his eyes there were flashes of torchlight and darkness and burning things and - _she’s still holding back. This is but a fraction of what she’s feeling. She’s sealed herself off to keep me safe._

_Oh my love…_

Glorfindel sighed and pulled a chair to the side of the bed, one gloved hand taking both of his lord’s and the other moving to his shoulder.

“Your sons departed at first light.” the seneschal said. “They shall bring her home, and you shall heal her, but to heal her you must rest and eat.”

“I have been stitching up wounds for longer than your current incarnation has existed.” he replied curtly. “I know what must be done.”

“Physician, heal thyself.” Erestor commented drily from the corner, where he was examining the stacks of untouched paperwork on an endtable.

“If I could,” he snapped, “if it were as _simple_ as - !”

His words were cut off by more pain, forcing his eyes shut and his body to seize up, washing over him with razor-edged waves, shredding skin and muscle and bone and _fëa_ into nothing until blood streamed into the water, and he set his teeth and gripped Glorfindel’s hand and held on through the screams and the agony and the feel of claws about his throat and everywhere else besides, how dare they, how dare they touch me, touch her, and there was anger and lightning-flashes of power and fearhatedisgustrage because it went on and on until they were satisfied and when it was over he realized he’d been screaming.

Throat raw and ragged, he took several deep breaths and finally looked back up to Glorfindel’s face.

“She must return.” he said. “She must return.”

_If she does not, the Halls will have two to welcome rather than one._


End file.
